Star Wars: Bantha Squadron
by banthapoodoo
Summary: They're under-equipped, under-staffed, they're in the middle of nowhere, and they fly Y-Wings. Welcome to Bantha Squadron, Kid.
1. Chapter 1

Star Wars: Bantha Squadron

Author's note: All Star Wars stuff belongs to Lucasfilm and I don't own any of this. Read and review, and yub yub!

Chapter 1: Newcomer

The dark void of space filled Kal Korros' eyes as he disengaged the hyperdrive. The faint green orb of Cyranan VII was a distant twinkle in the field of stars in front of him. He saw the pale-green text of his R5 unit, Caller, and read it.

"Looks like we're here, Caller. Run a sensor sweep for the _Vigilance_." Kal checked his scopes, and watched as the sweep returned its results. The sensor signature of the Republic cruiser _Vigilance_ showed up a few clicks out. "Alright, open up a comm to the _Vigilance_."

A rough masculine tone came after a few seconds. "Y-Wing, this is Vigilance flight control. Are you Flight Officer Korros?"

"Affirmative, Vigilance. I'm transmitting my clearances now." He kept the Y-Wing on a holding pattern with the bulk cruiser. He ordered Caller to send the codes, and a few seconds later, the flight control responded.

"Flight Officer Korros, you're cleared to land. Follow the standard landing procedures."

"Copy, _Vigilance_. Glad to be here, Korros out." He said as he veered his craft to approach the cruiser. As Kal started to approach, the cruiser's long shape came into view. He sighed as he looked back to Caller. "How's our new home look?"

Caller sent a stream of low whistles and beeps. Kal chuckled. "Yea, not much, but we're still flying." Once he got within a half-click of the _Vigilance_, he cut the engines of his fighter and let the tractor beam take over. He watched as the hangar bay grew larger, and he set his landing gear down. The craft was down by the time he had powered down the systems, and his cockpit depressurized.

The hatch opened, and he watched as a ladder was pushed up against the Y-Wing's nose. Kal climbed out of the cockpit and descended down. He was approached by two beings.

One was a human male. He was tall and had graying hair, and wore a Starfighter Command uniform with a Lieutenant Commander's tag. The other, a Faleen female, wore a similar uniform with Lieutenant's markings. "Kal Korros, right?" The man said.

Kal snapped to attention. "Flight Officer Kal Korros, sir." He reeled it off like second nature.

"At ease, Officer Korros." The human offered a smile. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Quint Tarth, and this is Xil, our Squadron XO. Welcome to Bantha Squadron." Tarth must have seen the look on Kal's face. "Speak freely, Korros."

"Bantha Squadron?" Kal tried to hide the incredulity in his voice. "I was being told I was being part of the _Vigilance_'s Gold Wing?"

"Gold Wing doesn't really exist any more." Xil explained. The Faleen had a cool voice, with a slight accent from her reptillian tongue. "Between attrition and reassignments, what was once a thirty-six-craft fighter wing is now six Y-Wings."

"You're kidding." He looked around the hangar. The bulk cruiser's hangar was big, and he looked at the ships. Some small cargo shuttles, a Correlian HWK-290, and an Assault Transport sat mixed around five Y-Wings. "Sithspit. You're not kidding."

"Afraid not. Bantha Squadron's a second-line unit, Korros." Tarth said, then nodded to Xil. "Xil, show Korros to quarters. Who's got a bunk to spare?"

Xil considered a moment, pondering. "Nalen just moved in with Sien. Kossf?"

"He's not going to last bunking in that uncomfortable mess Kossf calls quarters. He's human, he won't sleep." Tarth said. "What about Silda? She's human. Or close enough."

"Done." Xil said, and just like that, he had quarters. "Come on, new kid, you get to deal with the Princess. Grab your gear."

Kal went to the rear of his Y-wing, unloading the cargo from it. He had only two duffels to his name at the moment. "Who's the...Princess?" He asked once he was sure Caller had been secured from extraction and was happily tweedling on the ground.

"Flight Officer Silda, Bantha Six. You're going to be Four. We've been understrength for about a month now. Our last Four bit it on a patrol of the Widow's Nebula."

Korros nodded, thinking not to comment on the subject. "So you guys are running a half-squadron?"

"Indeed. I run Bantha Null, that Hawk over there. We run the _Mynock_ with the rest of the squadron as electronic warfare and communications."

Kal nodded his approval. "Handy. So, what kind of action are you usually seeing here? Cyraanan isn't exactly the core worlds." In fact, it was a bit of a joke how far it was from the usual front lines of the now-New Republic's push towards the core.

"Usually freighter escort and we occasionally assist some local governments. The _Vigilance_ isn't exactly a shining beacon of the Republic. It's an old bulk cruiser that can launch some birds. Even so," Xil smiled. "We Banthas are good hunters."

They walked through the pristine halls of the _Vigilance_, reaching the crew deck after a few minutes of walking. Xil led him to a room, and Kal noted the number. He smiled. "Thank you, Xil. I don't think I ever got your rank."

"I do not have one." Xil sighed. "Alliance Command has not seen fit to give most of Bantha Squadron ranks beyond Flight Officer. Frankly, we aren't front line. I'm pretty sure making sure to assign commissions to the Banthas ranks slightly above making sure Palpatine gets a proper funeral."

"Oh." Kal gave a half-hearted smile. "Very well. Thanks, Xil."

"Welcome aboard, and welcome to the Banthas." She offered a slight smile. "Have fun with Miss Silda. Once you've got accommodated, we'll be on Deck 7's officer lounge to give you a proper Bantha welcome."

He nodded. "All right." He hit the door chime, and a moment later, the door slid open. He turned around to check for Xil, but the Faleen had already beat a hasty retreat.

A female voice, haughty and full of class, greeted him from the bunk. "Oh, the new kid, right?" A woman peeked her head out of the bunk.

The woman he presumed was Silda was absolutely gorgeous. Her hair was jet black, cut short and neat. Her eyes were a deep gray, and her entire face was carved an elegant. "You look like you got picked up off some farm." Her voice carried a definite accent, and Basic wasn't her first language, he could tell. A rarity amongst humans.

"Close enough." Kal replied. He carried his two carry bags into the room. "I'm Kal Korros. I'm going to be your bunk mate."

"Silda, Bantha Six." She said simply. "You will get the top bunk." She gestured to the bunk above the one she was sleeping on.

The quarters themselves were confined. There was the one set of bunks, a refresher with a stanisteam, and a desk with enough room for a humanoid to lie down on the floor with the desk in use. The walls had several compartments built in, which Kal guessed were for clothing storage and gear.

Kal nodded. "All right, thanks. Anything I should know about you?"

Silda gave a haughty snort. "A few ground rules. First, I leave the lights on. My home planet leaves me night-blind. I can't see at all in the dark. I'll dim them when you sleep, but beyond that, they stay on."

"All right." Kal gestured to the compartments. "Is there one I can use?"

Silda leaned over and she hit one of the compartments. "The ones on either side as well." She said. "Secondly, I'm not much for small talk, so if you're thinking of trying to get in my flight suit, forget it."

Kal felt just a hint of heat come into his cheeks, and that drew a smirk from Silda. The woman reminded him of a Nexu, fierce and very prickly. "I wasn't thinking of it." He started towards the compartments, and Silda shoved a foot out, blocking his path with her leg, long and muscular and uncovered by anything but her shorts.

"And don't lie to me, Korros. I'm a Hapan. You were thinking of it the moment you saw me."

Kal just stepped over the leg. "I thought Hapans didn't leave the Consortium." He said.

"Most don't, but wanderlust is something that affects everyone." She withdrew her leg. "Is the Commander having us throw you a welcome party?"

"Deck Seven officer's lounge." He said.

"Oh, goody." She smirked just a little bit. "Sien's going to show you a hell of a time." She got out of the bunk. "Get out of those oranges, and into something resembling clothes."

Kal changed into trousers and a shirt before the two pilots headed for the officer's lounge. Even for the cool temps of the _Vigilance_, Silda wore shorts and a tank top.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked as they took the turbolift.

"Not particularly. Besides, after some of the places I've seen, the enviro controls for the _Vigilance_ are practically balmy."

They found the officer's lounge quickly. At one point he guessed it might have been a briefing room. But now it was organized into a circular bar with a pyramid of liquor bottles, and tables gathered around the bar.

"Ah, there we are." Silda said, and the woman, tall and lean, led him towards a table.

The assembled Bantha Squadron was an interesting mix. Kal spotted two humans, one of them Commander Tarth, Xil, and a Sullustan who was coming over with a tray of drinks.

"Well, well, Princess, you didn't kill him yet." Tarth had a wide grin on his face. "Restraint."

"What can I say?" She offered an apologetic shrug. "I'm getting soft." She gestured to the other human, a male with dark skin. "Kal Korros, his is Nalen Zur. Best techie on the _Vig_."

Nalen sketched a sloppy salute to Kal. "Welcome to the Banthas, Kal." He lifted his drink and took a swig from it.

The Sullusatan gave a little smirk. "I'm Sien Surr. Ruby Bliels?" He asked, offering one of the glasses.

"I'd love one." Kal said as he pulled up a chair. Silda sat down next to him, and they both grabbed a glass.

A low, growling voice came from behind them. "I hope I'm not late, fellow hunters."

As Kal turned around, he saw a gold-scaled Trandoshan, towering over in an orange flightsuit. The Trandoshan was two meters tall, easily, and Kal wondered how the reptillian humanoid even fit in a Y-Wing.

"Of course not. We were just getting started." Tarth said. "Kal, meet Kossf. Kossf, Kal Korros, Bantha Four."

"You fly with Silda and I, then." Kossf pulled a seat up and sat down. "Surr, do you have my-"

Sien placed a tankard in front of him. "Of course, Kossf. You think I would forget your order."

"Of course not, Surr." Kossf lifted the metal tankard and took a hefty pull from it. "So, Korros, why are you here in the Banthas?"

Kal shrugged. "I got assigned here." He answered, simply.

"Well, naturally. Tell me, how much time do you have logged? Kills?" Kossf asked, with an honest curiosity. Kal thought this was interesting.

"Uh, I've never actually flown combat before. Only training."

"He is hatchling." Kossf raised his arms, and Kal's immediate reaction was to recoil. However, the Trandoshan embraced Kal, locking him in a tight hug. "We shall see him become great warrior. Get him many points."

"Uh, what?" Kal asked, breath tight from the hug.

"Drink up, kid." Xil chuckled. "We fly out tomorrow."

Chapter 2 coming soon: If Banthas Could Fly


	2. Chapter 2: When Banthas Fly

Hey all, thanks for reading. As always, leave a review, so I know this is getting interest!

Chapter 2: When Banthas Fly

The briefing room of the _Vigilance_ was situated with a holoprojector at one end of the room, with a number of rows of seats looking down at the projector. Kossf, Sien, and Nalen Zur were already sitting in the second row, with their feet propped up on the first row of seats when Kal and Silda entered.

"Oh ho," Nalen called out. "They enter together. You get a piece of that farm boy, Princess?"

Silda gave an indignant scoff. "Please. If I had him he would be in SickBay."

"You take forever in the 'fresher." Kal grumbled.

"You should wake up earlier, newbie." Silda chided him as she walked down to the row of seats. She planted herself next to the pilots already seated, and in one fluid motion propped her legs up on the seat in front of her. Kal filed in and sat down, not putting up his own feet.

Xil and Tarth entered a minute later, both already wearing their flight suits. "All right, children, let's get to work." He said as he entered a datacard into the projector. "First flight today for our new kid. He'll head Besh flight. Silda, Kossf, keep on his wing and make sure he doesn't get himself shot."

Kossf and Silda both made rude gestures at Tarth. A little grin crossed his and Xil's faces. The Faleen spoke next in her low reptilian hisses. "Our target today is a convoy in deep space. We have found a point the Empire has been using as a staging point for their activities in this portion of the Rim.

"The _Vigilance_ entered hyperspace last night while we were sleeping, and is currently enroute. We arrive in two hours. Once we enter the area, Banthas will exit. Our goal is to recon the convoy, and disable what ships we can."

"Support?" Nalen asked. "Is the _Vig_ going to go rough and tumble, or is Captain Galia playing her cards close?"

Xil hesitated for a moment, and Tarth answered in her stead. "The _Vigilance_ will be covering the most probably exit vectors for the Imperials." He said. "But the _Mynock_ will still be in the air to coordinate, and assault transport _Hurricane_ will be there to help with any priority targets."

"Expected resistance?" Silda asked as she stretched a little, bumping her elbow into Kal's head. The younger flight officer cursed.

Tarth shook his head. "Nothing too heavy, we expect." Tarth looked directly at Kal. "I hope Starfighter Command drilled it into your head that you're flying a Y-Wing, Korros. We do not dog fight. Even if we have a numerical advantage, a TIE will be able to ride your rear like you're a ten-cred hooker."

"Yes, Commander." Kal nodded. "And what if there are TIEs?"

"Eyeballs and squints, you coordinate with _Hurricane _and _Mynock_, see if you can draw them into their turrets. If you've got a clear shot, take it."

"How's our missile count looking, Commander?" Sien asked. "We still on rations?"

"Four torpedoes a boat." He said, which gave a serious curse from several of the pilots. "I'm not happy about it either. But use of our proton torpedoes are to be reserved for emergency use. Last shipment isn't getting here. Hopefully we can pull some torpedoes off the convoy. Now, suit up. Banthas, let's give hell to the Imps."

Two hours later, Kal was in his cockpit. The _Vigilance _exited hyperspace, and the rough voice of the flight controller came over his comm. "Bantha Squadron, launch!" As the ships started to lift off and file out of the hangar bay, the commander added. "Good hunting."

The reedy voice of Reeso, the Rodian Major who piloted the _Hurricane_ and headed the commandos on board, signed on. "_Hurricane_, forming up."

The convoy consisted of about a dozen ships, all heading for the same exit vector. Three boxy Mobquets led them, with Galofree GR-75s spaced out amongst the Mobquets. Kal recognized the tactic. Though not heavily armed, the Mobs could at least shoot at the fighters.

"_Mynock_," said Xil. "I'm not picking up fighters."

"All right, then. Besh, designating groups one, two, three. Aurek will take one, Besh three, and we'll pincer on two." Tarth reeled off orders. "Ion cannons and engine hits. Let's give salvage a big haul."

Kal clicked his targeting computer to the new objective data, as it was being relayed in by the _Mynock_. Three group was the Mobquet and Galofrees to the starboard ahead of them. "Lead, Four. I kcopy. Besh flight moving in." He clicked his comm over to the flight channel. "Six, Five, let's go graze."

Kossf chuckled. "Forming up on you, Four. What's our first target?"

"Let's take the Mobquet. It's got teeth, so let's see about de-fanging it." Kal said after a moment's consideration. He did a quick calculation. At their present heading and speed, they'd be in range of the Mobquet in thirty seconds.

Caller started to chirp at Kal. "I know," The pilot said. "See what you can do about reinforcing the shields. We don't know what they've got on those haulers."

The ships closed in, and Kal kept a death grip on his flight stick. He waited until the first flashes of green lasers from the Mobquet streaked by him. They were at a far enough range that they couldn't get a good read on his sluggish Y-Wing. He chuckled, and he accelerated to top speed. He presented the Y-Wing on a dead on course, and he could see from a quick glance at his screens that Silda and Kossf were following the same maneuver, giving the slimmest profile of the Y-Wing.

Emerald blaster bolts flew past them. One of them skimmed his shields, and Caller yowled at him. "Shut it, you baby!" He called back to the droid and be unleashed his first barrage of ion bolts. The cannon on top of his flight's Y-Wings sent blue flashes of ionization across the shields of the Mobquet. A few shots got through, sending faux-electrical lines across the hull of the Mobquet.

The flight passed over the Mobquet, speeding past to try for another pass. Caller cried out, and the ship's computer sent out the quick beeping of an attempted missile lock. "Break!" Kal called. "She's got concussion missiles!"

He yanked on his stick, sending the Y-Wing into a roll that the ship strained to complete. Even outside of atmosphere, the ship was hardly cooperative. He listened as the indicator for the missile lock turned red. "Missile in the air!" He called, and he pulled off his attack. "Five, Six, can you get a read?"

"Four, it's homing on you. You're not outrunning it." Silda replied. "Break for the _Hurricane_ and _Mynock._"

"I copy. Five, Six, disable that freighter before it can launch more of them!" Kal ordered before he started to roll his bomber. Hopefully that would confuse the missile for even half a second, buying him time.

The _Mynock _was in his view quickly, and its chin cannon rotated to face in Kal's direction. "Need some help, Four?" Xil's voice purred at him.

"Please and thank you!" He called as he started to roll his craft, trying to juke out the missile. However, that wasn't likely to happen. The tone of the lock still held.

"Follow my instructions, and we'll get you out of this." Xil kept her voice cool. "Keep on your present heading towards _Mynock_." She checked with her copilot for a moment. "When you get to a half-click, I want you to pull up as hard as you can in that thing."

"Copy." He said as he throttled up the Y-wing to its top speed and regained his heading. He saw the chin turret face his craft directly. He switched his radio to Caller. "I'm going to cut the engines. I want you to blast the maneuvering thrusters. On my mark, bring them back up full blast. All right?" Caller whistle his agreement, strained as it was.

He watched the distance counter track down and down. He then cut power to the engines, and he as jerked back into the seat as the force of the sudden shift cut through the grav-compensator. He blasted the engine back up, making him change directions, a straight ninety-degree turn.

He saw twin lances of scarlet flash right where his Y-Wing had just been, and the missile chasing after him blew up, flaring up against his shields. Caller screamed, and he felt himself jerk against his crash webbing for just a moment.

Kal righted his hip. "Thanks, Null. Five, Six, how's our target?"

"Launcher is down. We hunt the fish now." Kossf said, using the nickname amongst the fleet for unarmed transports like the Galofree. "Free to engage."

"Let's wrap it up quick, Besh, disable those last freighters so we can head to Two Group." Kal ordered. "Form up."

"Copy, Four." Silda said, and he saw the two Y-Wings of Besh Flight fly to let him take the lead. He shifted the Y-Wing, taking out then swinging it around. It would give them a long strafing run of all three transports. The Gallofree, fat and slow, was a perfect target.

"Hit the engines." Kal ordered. "Weapons free." Blue-white ion blasts flashed out, sizzling against the engines of the transport. He watched as the thrust started to die down. "Good work, move on!" He called.

They took two passes, but eventually all four ships of the Three Group were down. Kal turned his Y-Wing towards the middle group, and both Aurek and Besh started in on the Two Group. The Mobquet went down without letting off a missile, and the Galofrees went down faster than either lone group had gotten.

Tarth's voice came over the comm. "Squadron, Lead. Great work out there. _Hurricane_, they're all yours now."

"Thanks, Banthas. We'll board that lead Mobquet." Reeso said as the boxy assault transport started to close in.

"Heads up!" Xil called. "I've got incoming contacts. Looks like...fighters. Someone got off a distress signal."

"I thought you were jamming them, Null." Tarth said.

"It took a bit for me to get into range." Xil paused a moment. "Acquired. Sithspit, Lead, they're Star Wings. Four of them."

Assault Gunboats. Kal bit back a curse as he checked his sensor data being fed to him by the _Mynock_. He veered his craft, and he pressed the group comm. "Five, Six, let's go grab some Star Wings. You game?"

"Of course, Four." Kossf grinned. "More interesting prey. Scorekeeper watch our victory."

Kal smirked. He brought his Y-Wing up to maximum velocity. Each of the Star Wings was shielded, had ion cannons, and could hold enough concussion missiles to wipe out a squadron. They were also faster. However, they had the slight numerical advantage.

"Null, Lead. _Mynock_, can you spoof their missiles? Let's keep it to just a bright fight."

"Working, Commander. EmCee, get working on it!" He assumed that Xil was yelling at the droid copilot of the _Mynock_.

"Orders, Lead?" Kal asked.

"Designating targets one through four. One and two belong to Aurek. Three and four are all yours." He waited a moment. "_Vigilance_, this is Bantha Lead. Any chance we can get your help with the Star Wings."

The slightly garbled voice of a Mon Cal's voice came over the comm. "Negative, Bantha. We need to protect _Hurricane_ and Reeso's commandos. Engage the Star Wings."

The acid in Tarth's voice wasn't subtle. "Acknowledged, _Vigilance_." He snarled, then he said. "Banthas, engage!"

Kal switched to his cannons. He licked his lips, and he checked his shields. They were still at sixty-seven percent. Kal redirected the shields fore. "How're we looking back there, Caller?" He checked the quickly descending distance. Firing range in fifteen.

Caller's response flashed on his screen. "_Port stabilizer is loose. Estimate lessened efficiency_." The readout said, translating his tweedles.

"All right, see if you can't lock it down. Hold on, Caller, this is gonna get rough."

Tarth's voice came over the comm next. "Null, start spoofing their missiles. We don't want them using those concussion missiles."

"Sir, if she's spoofing our missiles, our torpedoes won't be able to lock either." Sien objected, his voice raised.

"Would you rather face those concussion missiles?" Nalen chided him.

"Point." Sien sighed.

"Cut the chatter, Banthas. Tighten up, and let's go get them. Null, can you keep this to a bright fight?"

"Emcee says we can, for all this bucket of bolts is worth." Xil said, referencing her copilot. "I'll see if I can cover with the blaster cannon as well. Let's keep at it, Banthas."

Then the first shots were fired. The Y-Wing, for all its sluggish speed, packed a punch. The scarlet laser cannons struck first at the Star Wing he had targeted. He supposed the flash of the shields as he hit the Star Wing tossed off it's pilots aim. Kal banked, and he cut his speed, decelerating to swing around and take a shot at the other Star Wing Besh was going at. Silda and Xil had taken shots at it first.

Kal slowed his breathing as he lined up his shot. "Caller, get me a firing-wait, no, scratch that." He grinned, and he thought back on his training. He accelerated up, taking advantage of the Star Wing's slowed combat speed. He waited until he was in half a click, lined up the shot, and released. The torpedoes, no longer tracking, wouldn't alert the Star Wing as it tailed Silda's fighter. The red streak of the proton torpedo ended in a large explosion as it rammed straight up the engines of the Imp fighter.

"Got it!" He called. "Six, I think you owe me a drink."

"Nice shot," Silda conceded. "Five, how's that other fighter?"

The Trandoshan hissed. "Almost..." He hissed, and Kal saw a blue streak of ion cannons flash across his view port. "Curses." He hissed at the miss.

Kal accelerated the Y-Wing, and he brought his cannons to bear on the second Star Wing. He gritted his teeth, and he set his cannons to link both the ion cannons and his blasters. He fired, and let the scarlet and blue lights fly. The Star Wing exploded in a less impressive fire ball than the first, but it was down all the same.

The rest of the fight was clean. Nalen took a nasty hit to his engine from a dumb-fired concussion missile, but they destroyed the other two fighters handily. As they were flying back, Nalen with the help of the _Mynock_'s hauler claw, they counted their totals.

"Hey, so, Four got two kills right?" Nalen asked. "You know what that means."

"What?" Kal asked, confused as he heard chuckles break out amongst the Banthas.

"It means, Four, that as grand hunter of the day, you buy drinks." He could practically hear Kossf licking his snouth through the comm.

Coming soon, Chapter 3, Celebrations.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3: Celebrations and Casualties

Hey everyone, a bit of a light chapter, but it's setting up for some bigger stuff. Enjoy, and leave a review!

Chapter 3: Celebrations and Casualties

The darkness of space was beautiful, in its own way. Or so Lieutenant Bryndon Kage believed. Kage looked over from the copilot's seat to the pilot, a cheerful ensign. He couldn't remember the man's name for the life of him, but Bryndon ignored that slightly inconvenient fact.

"Ensign, ETA to _Emperor's Task_?" He asked.

The ensign replied after checking his boards. "Five minutes, Lieutenant Kage." He paused a moment. "You seem worried, Sir. Is everything all right?"

"Nonsense, Ensign. Relax." The truth was, he was worried. In the year since the Emperor's death, his commander had been increasingly erratic. One of the famed Emperor's Hands, the _Task_ stood as a memory to Palpatine's legacy and his unending reach. As it came into view of the front transparisteel port, he felt a cool shudder run across him. An _Imperial-II-_class Star Destroyer was no laughing matter. The twin black stripes that ran across the length of the ship proclaimed it as home to one of the many branches of the famed Black Squadron. This one, Abyss Wing, was an excellent unit. The military side of the _Task_ had been exemplary. It was the other units, the operatives, that were suspect.

As the shuttle was towed into the hangar bay of the _Task_, Kage found himself drumming his fingers. His personal comm sounded once the shuttle had landed. He hated that. "Kage," He said, and he knew who was on the other end.

* * *

Sera Falis sat on the large flowform couch in her quarters. Sprawled out, she let herself become enraptured by the mild dose of painkillers she had taken. Kage would be coming soon. The painkillers would help with the inevitable headache that came with dealing with the Intelligence operative.

Sera had been an Emperor's Hand, one of his highest operatives. The Force had been with her, and Palpatine had instructed her in the ways of the Dark Side. However, his death had left her without a master. No new Emperor had risen. Well, no one that could be taken seriously. So, she stayed on the Outer Rim, and she sought to consolidate her power so that she might be able to bring it to whoever she deemed worthy of her service.

A chime sounded, and she drew on the Force to clear her mind. "Enter," She knew it was Kage without even calling on the Force. He was an unimpressive ma. Utterly bland, with a oft-broken nose and a beard unbecoming of a member of Imperial Intelligence. He wore one of those Corellian vests that smugglers seemed to prefer.

"Lieutenant Kage, reporting as ordered, Madam." His voice was low, rough, and echoed throughout her quarters. They were rather bland, besides the flowform furniture and vidscreen. In one corner was a meditation sphere, and her simple bunk in another. In fact, the only real decoration was the shelves of alcohol from various worlds. She had a bottle of Corellian whiskey in front of her, with a ice-filled tumbler next to it.

"Excellent, thank you for reporting so expediently, Kage." She poured some of the whiskey out. It wasn't Whyren's Reserve. She'd never sully that with ice. It was a much cheaper brand, so she didn't feel bad about letting it chill. "I would like to hear your report on what happened to the convoy."

"Rebel scum," He said. He lacked the fine accent that many Imperial officers carried, so the phrase didn't have the unique distaste that she so loved. "We lost four Star Wings trying to defend the convoy."

"Four Star Wings?" She sighed, and then took a long sip of the whiskey. "So you are saying that we are without our resupply?"

Kage frowned. "Yes, Madam."

Sera glared at him. She set the glass down, then continued. "Who were the attackers? Sure we have some data."

"Indeed," He said. "Transmissions received indicate that it was a cruiser, the _Vigilance_, and assorted fighters and light craft."

"I thought that the _Vigilance_ was a non-threat, Lieutenant. Chal Galia was deemed too cautious, a coward in fact."

Kage swallowed, and she could feel his fear. "The _Vigilance_ did not engage the freighters. It was its fighters, Y-Wings."

"Are you telling me that a wing of Y-Wings took down four Star Wings and an entire convoy? Who was manning those guns?"

"Madam, it was six Y-Wings."

Sera had heard enough. She rose from her seat, and lifted a hand. She applied a force choke to the Lieutenant, and held. She didn't stop until his face was purple and he was most assuredly dead. She downed the rest of her whiskey, then commed the guards outside her room. They entered, saw the scene, and removed Kage's body. Time to find a new head for her Intelligence operatives.

* * *

The officer's lounge of the _Vigilance_ was filled with loud, raucous celebrations. Kal Korros and the rest of the Banthas were sitting at one of the corner booths of the bar. They all had large tankards of ale in front of them, some swill that one of the engineering crew brewed. It tasted like crap, but it did the job just fine.

"So," Commander Tarth behan. "We have something to settle. "We have our rookie's first kills to celebrate! With two Star Wings to his name, we have Mister Kal Korros!" The Banthas made various sounds of congratulation. "The Rebllion's in good hands with a Y-Wing pilot who can shoot down superiority pilots."

Kossf offered his own encouragement. "Scorekeeper will be pleased, Kal. You are good hunt leader."

"Yea, where'd they dig you up, farm boy?" Nalen asked. "I mean, I'm an Academy washout at least."

Kal shook his head. "Nothing so fancy. I did flying for my family's hauler and the T-16." He shrugged. "I'm from a backwater, but we heard about Endor same as everyone. I sold my speeder for a ticket off world and joined up."

"That's so sweet I think I'm going to throw up." Tarth made a mock gagging noise. He smirked at Kal. "But hey, you did good work out there. And that work with the concussion missile was some fancy flying. Never seen anything like that."

"Physics." He shrugged. "A few pilots in Starfighter Command training figured it out. Pretty handy?"

"It's good." Surr said. "I'm forwarding it on for Y-Wing units to try in training. We fly with support a lot, so if we can save a few concussion missile hits that way, that would be good."

Silda smirked. "However, farm boy here is forgetting something." She took a swig from the ale. "He's buying us Corellian brandy tonight." The dark-haired woman stood, and she strutted towards the makeshift bar. Kal found himself walking away, which drew chuckles from the assembled Banthas.

"Careful, little hunter," Kossf chided. "She will rip out your throat, and use your bunk as a nesting ground."

Sien chuckled at that. "She's Hapan, Kid. She'll eat you for breakfast."

"Besides," Nalen added. "Sex is rough on those bunks. You'll end up with your exhaust hitting something and having to ice it."

Kal sighed as he looked over at Silda before looking back at his fellow pilots. "I am not that brave a man." He said as he pulled out his credit chips. He got up and headed over to the bar, where Silda was picking out a cask of the best brandy the officer's lounge had. "Making me blow my entire first pay voucher, are you?"

"Oh, don't worry, we'll go easy on you. After you've earned your ace's stripes." Silda smiled at Kal. "Hey, you got two in a Y-Wing. Just...eight more to go." Her smile grew to that Nexu's grin that he had learned to fear. "Speaking of which, good flying today. Really."

Kal smiled, his a bit softer. "Thanks. So, what's up with the _Vig_ not supporting us? Seems like Galia was more interested in covering the exit vectors."

"Chal Galia is a coward. Got the _Vigilance_ because he's someone's brother or something. Sometimes the Rebellion isn't entirely as ideal as we like it to be."

"So what is a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, his tone less joking than he had intended. "I mean, aren't Hapans sort of isolationists?"

"Most are." She smiled a little. "But as matriarchal as life can be in the Consortium, family politics among nobles can become a prison. Most men, to avoid all that, turn to piracy. I tried that, but I was, well..." She sighed. "Have you ever felt a lack of purpose in your life? Like you did not know what you wanted to do with your life?"

Kal nodded. "Yea, that's what the entirety of growing up on a farm is like." He gestured to the bartender, and ordered a pair of Baradium Bombs. When the drinks came, he pushed one of the shot glasses in front of Silda. "Come on, let's drink so we can forget that we're stuck in the middle of nowhere flying bombers with no fighter support."

* * *

There was a distinct lack of bed when Kal woke up. There was also a distinct headache. He took stock of his situation. He was on the deck of his quarters. He was thankfully not in a pool of vomit. He was, however, hung over. Something prodded into his back.

"Go away, I'm going to become one with the Booze Force." Kal grumbled. "Why am I not in my bunk?"

Silda's voice was right in his ear. Way too loud. "You couldn't climb up to your bunk. You hold your liquor well. Until the fifth Baradium bomb." She chuckled, and he felt her step on his back as she crossed the room to the 'fresher. "Thanks for last night, though. The Banthas...we haven't celebrated like that in a while."

Kal collected himself enough to reply. He dare not open his eyes. He could feel the lights still on. "Haven't had too much success?"

"Too many deaths, too many failures." The sanisteam turned on, and while he could hear it warming up, she added. "We may just get off this stanging ship yet. Word is, General Salm got word of your little maneuver."

"Horton stanging Salm?" He opened his eyes. Damn the lights. He looked towards the 'fresher. "What?"

"Yea, wants to make a holocom to congratulate that stunt. And to give us our new mission."

Well, time to work on a hangover cure. Fast.

Chapter 4: Inside the Widow's Head


	4. Chapter 4: Inside the Widow's Head

Chapter 4: Inside the Widow's Head

Hangover cures were something that Starfighter pilots learned to do in flight school. Kal was fed, sobered, and in his uniform after an hour. He filed into the briefing room. This time, all the Banthas were already assembled, sitting in the front row with datapads in hand.

Kal arched an eyebrow at the scene, and asked. "Are we looking like respectable people for once?"

"Hey, when a general calls, we answer." Tarth shrugged. "Holocom starts in five."

As Kal took a seat at the end of the group of Banthas, Xil gave a little briefing of her own. "I've coordinated with the _Vigilance_'s officers, and it looks like we've got enough from this raid to fully arm the Y-Wings for several missions."

Nalen nodded. "That's good. It'll be nice to actually use some proton torpedoes without the penny pinchers in the armory losing their minds over it."

Xil went on for several more minutes, explaining the haul they had gotten from the previous raid. An Alliance recovery team was on their way to pick up the convoy and add it to the Alliance supply fleets. After a few minutes, a comm officer let them know that Starfighter Command was on the holo. The Falleen took her seat, taking a moment to pick at imaginary lint.

The figure of Colonel Horton Salm appeared on the holoimager shortly. A man of stocky build, and a dark crown of hair, he was arguably the most famous Y-wing pilot of the Rebellion. "Colonel Salm here. The commanding officer I'm looking for is..."

The commander stood up. "Lieutenant Commander Quint Tarth, sir." He said.

"Yes, Commander Tarth. First of all, I wanted to congratulate Flight Officer Korros of your squadron." His eyes scanned the row, and settled on Kal. "That was a fine piece of flying. Flight Officer's Xil's data logs of that battle show a technique we'd like to implement further."

"Thank you, Sir." Kal said, unable to restrain just a bit of a smile.

"Yes, well, we didn't come here just to talk about maneuvers. I've got a target for your squadron, Commander Tarth."

Tarth gave a curt nod. "That's what we're here for. But, may I speak freely, sir?" At Salm's nod, he continued. "Why isn't Commander Galia involved in this briefing?"

"This briefing doesn't concern the _Vigilance_. It concerns your squadron." Salm answered. "I've gone through the appropriate channels to get your squadron assigned."

"Very well, Sir. My apologies."

"No need," Salm gave another of his curt nods. "Anyways, we have discovered an interesting target presented to us in the Widow's Head Nebula." Salm's image started to scale down until only his head remained in the holo. It was replaced with a star map that Kal recognized as the local star cluster. The map zoomed in on a local nebula. "The Empire has a research facility there called Sigma Seven-Three. Intelligence assets reveal that this base is being used for weapons research, as well as a secret base for their own Intelligence operatives to use."

As he continued, the image of a space station, shaped like an upside down bell, took up the holo. "The station itself has unusual defenses. Automated turrets and patrol ships serve as the main defense for the station. The local radiation of the Nebula makes the use of TIEs finnicky, so they don't have any fighter squadrons stationed on Seven-Three."

"Will our fighters be able to work in the Nebula?" Nalen asked.

"No, the shielding on non-TIE starfighters are able to deflect the radiation." Salm answered. "Now, once you've defeated the primary defenses, your next objective will be to board Seven-Three."

All the Banthas looked around each other. "Board, Sir?" Silda asked.

"Looking at your unit specs. You are a ground ops-capable unit, correct?" Salm replied.

Tarth paused for a moment. "When the squadron was first commissioned, yes. However, we had a full squadron back then, and while we have enough for a decent team, we're not exactly a commando team."

Salm considered for a moment. "We do need to know what they're doing on that station. Does your team have a capable slicer?"

"Yes, Colonel." Xil answered. "I'm skilled enough in the field. I can get in and out of most Imperial systems."

Salm gave a quick nod. "Excellent. We want you to get into the base, figure out what you can about what they're doing there. If you can do damage to the Empire's projects in the nebula, all the better."

About an hour later, Kal was stowing his gear into the rear compartment of his bomber. He was not dressed in the usual orange of an Alliance star fighter, but now wore the black flight suit of an operations unit. He had stowed his gear webbing in the compartment behind the engine when he heard Tarth's voice.

"Hey, Korros, what did the quartermaster give you in regards to weapons?"

Kal turned around. Tarth cut a much more imposing figure in his black flight suit. He had a holster strapped to his thigh, and the webbing he had loaded up were well-worn synthleather.

"Oh, an E-11 and sidearm." Kal replied. He held up the pistol, a standard model that he couldn't even guess the model of.

Tarth grinned a little, and he brought a holster up and tossed it at Kal. "Here you go, now you'll be a commando."

Kal caught the holster, and drew out the blaster. It was a Bryar rifle, with the typical pistol conversion package. He arched an eyebrow. "This is a big stanging gun." He grinned, and he strapped on the holster to his hip.

Tarth grinned. "Trust me, you won't find anything better."

After Kal had gotten his gear situated, he got into the Y-wing's cockpit and pulled on his helmet. He started to run through the preflight with Caller, and he keyed on the comms inside his helmet. There was a conversation already going on.

"So, if I'm going to be your close quarters specialist," Silda was saying. "What the hell is Kossf doing?"

"I take the heavy equipment," The Trandoshan hissed. "Provide fire support."

"You know," Kal said. "I keep meaning to ask. How the hell do you fit in a cockpit, Kossf?"

The Trandoshan gave a little hissing chuckle. "Modifications were required. Koensayr did not think of large reptilians when designing a starship."

"We had to use a recon cockpit for his fighter." Nalen remarked, referencing the two-person Y-wing longprobes. "It took some work, but we were able to give him the headroom required."

"It is rather comfortable, though." Kossf said. "Thankfully, I have my own helmet."

Sien Surr added his own two credits to the conversation. "I've got a brother who's in a B-Wing squadron. It's a fighter made for aliens in mind. Lots of head room."

"Don't think I'd do well with the rotating cockpit." Nalen said. "I hate off-center cockpits. How the hell do you land it?"

"Carefully," Tarth said. "I've copiloted a YT-1300 before. It takes some getting used to."

Silda chuckled. "Oh, Commander, were you a freighter pilot?"

"Once upon a time. After Hoth, the shipping company I worked for got taken over by the Empire. I'd done my share of time in a fighter, and I got a command of my own. All right, folks, let's get to work, I want our landing gear up in ten. The Imps won't shoot themselves."

The Widow's Head Nebula was a marvelous rainbow of colors that swirled in front of Kal's gaze. Greens, blues, yellows, reds, all swirled together in the galactic soup that was the birthing pond of stars. He sent a message back to Caller to take a few holos of the Nebula to record for the family back home.

The young starfighter pilot hadn't left home on the best of terms. He was supposed to look after the farm once his elderly parents were too old to do so. They had a great number of droids, though, and Kal knew they didn't even need to do much beyond keep the droids into repair. He still missed them, and even if the Galactic Civil War hadn't seen his little home planet, he still had felt a desire to see the Galaxy, and if he could send them home some holos he'd feel a bit better about himself.

"Banthas, form up." Tarth said over the comm. "All craft, report in." Starting with Sien and ending at Xil, the entire squadron reported in. "All right, watch yourselves. Once we're inside the nebula, sensor range is going to go to hell. Pick up your visual scanning." He ordered, referencing that inside the swirling gases of the nebula, the standard issue eyeball was your best friend for target acquisition.

"Copy, Lead." Xil said. "I'll try to punch through the interference to relay targets, but no guarantees."

"All I ask. Come on, Banthas. First targets are the patrol ships, then the turrets. Let's get in quick and easy."

Sien chuckled. "Got it. Not like any relationship you've had in the past two years."

"I am proficient in medical treatment, Commander." Kossf said. "When we land, perhaps you should seek treatment for that burn injury."

Kal grinned more than he should have. "All right, Besh. Let's get in. Keep tight, we don't know how rough this'll be."

They accelerated into the nebula. Slowly, the range of his scanners started to become obscured. By the time they had gotten further into the nebula, sensor range was at best a few hundred meters.

His scanners didn't show anything at all, but that was hardly a surprise for him. Silence ran through the comm channels as he watched his mission clock tick down. Static nipped at the edges of his scanners, and he waited.

After two minutes of flying, the first blast of laser fire scored against his shields. "Contact! Dead ahead. Banthas, form up, let's fly together."

After a moment, the swirling gases of the nebula revealed what his attacker was. A laser cannon turret, probably designed to shoot anything not broadcasting the correct authorization. Kal flipped his lasers and ion cannon to link together. The rate of fire would be sluggish, but the pure firepower would make up for it with a stationary target.

Icy and crimson streaks fired from his flights' Y-Wings. After a few salvos, the turret was gone, with little damage to his shields.

"Careful, flight. They probably sent off a beacon to the gunships."

"Speak of the devil. Contact, five hundred meters." Xil called in. "Bearing three-five-oh. Looks to be an IPV."

Imperial Patrol Vehicles, or just IPVs, were a standard Imperial patrol craft. They were infamous for their combat ability, pirate-busters and generally a picket craft. Kal grinned. Easy pickings. "Steer clear of those turbolasers. Caller, prep torps one and two."

He accelerated towards the IPV. At this range, he'd either take a turbolaser shot and lose his shields, or the guns wouldn't be able to track him that fast. The _crack_ of his lasers scored against the IPV's hull, the ion bolts crawling along the flare of the shields.

Kal saw that Kossf and Silda were on his wings, both of them adding to it. He saw an explosion blossom on the IPV, and he heard Silda holler. "Torpedo hit right on the engineering section."

"Fantastic," Kal grinned. "Let's just hope they don't have too more of those things here." He checked his shields, and the group continued their descent into the nebula.

Chapter Five: The Empire's Secrets, coming sooner than this one!


End file.
